Even If The Words Do Not Reach Him
by Tendertooks
Summary: After school is over, Malfoy fails to cope the loss of the one person he ever truly loved... HarryDraco
1. Even if the Words Don't Reach Him

Even If The Words Do Not Reach Him 

**By Opacare**

This is set after their 7th year in Hogwarts, after they have graduated. Disclaimers apply, as always. It is in Malfoy's point of view, unless stated that it's Harry's.

---

I sat there, in the dark, cold floor, torn and shattered. I just stared down at the floor, teeth held tightly clashing. Your letter lay forgotten in front of me, crumpled and mutilated.

Your letter.

Your sign of redemption.

I thought you said you loved me, Potter.

Flashback

"Malfoy, would you just wait!?"

A sneering voice. "Finally pleading, Potter?"

Hollow footsteps coming towards me.

"How can you be such an obnoxious prick?!"

A grunt of amusement. "Potter, Potter, Potter… Stopping me just to throw low insults?" A shift of steps, "Don't waste my time."

More footsteps, fading this time.

"Wait!" A halt, a silence.

"Malfoy… I… I love you."

end flashback

Just what are you playing at, Potter? I bite my lip, down hard, so hard that blood trickles down. The moonlight streaks across my face, expression far distant.

All along I had hated you. For what reason? I hated you for making me love you. Do you know how confusing that is? This love is foreign to me, Potter. And you had lit it.

'Malfoys never love, they only marry to create the new generations. The heirs. Malfoys marry to get a position, an estate, money and power. They love not their spouse, but of what their spouse can do.'

My father taught me that, but I bent it. I was perverse, I am perverse. I loved not only a middle-class half-blood, but the very boy who set our master's downfall. But then, as I sunk that in, you supported me. You drew me in some more.

Flashback

"For…me?" A hoarse whisper.

"Read what the tag says. Oh, I forgot, you don't know how to." That voice I love so much.

A sarcastic drone, "Oh please read it to me, Great Potter."

"It says it's for you."

No answer. A soft sound of unwrapping paper.

No words, no utter words. A soft sound, a gentle kiss.

"Thanks…"

You reeled me in, Potter. You made me drown in your deep, green eyes, made me love you too much. I ached for you each second I wasn't near you, it just felt right to always be next to you, even if it was hardly possible.

You made me care, you made me want you so much. I was happy… I was happy. You wouldn't believe me to be happy, Potter?

You broke it months ago.

Flashback

A classroom door creaking. Muffled footsteps.

"Draco?"

A sultry voice, "Yes…?"

"…I need." Footsteps closer. "To tell you something."

"You just did, as a matter of fact."

A soft silence. A muffled sob, a soft sound of tears falling, "I can't be with you."

Tense.

The air was tense, I was tense, the world was tense, you were tense.

I hate you.

"…Why?"

end flashback

I tried to choke off another sob, back it off, trying to.

First you told me that. Then you avoided me. At first I looked for you, only to find out that you ran. At any circumstances ever, you ran away from me.

From me.

Do you know how much that stings, Potter? Every time I chase you in the Hogwarts corridors, you'd avoid me? You didn't even answer me why you left, Potter.

I stare down at the letter, the cause of opening healed wounds.

Were they ever healed? Not really. I closed my eyes, gripped my fists tighter. I had thought of forgetting you, forgetting everything that conspired between you and me, but alas, it brought me deeper into loving you.

Then you told me why.

flashback

A slam against the locker rooms.

"Tell me, Potter, why?!?" Venom.

I could hear the tears.

A growl. "Why Potter?! Found someone better than me?!" Pure venom.

A small silence.

"Draco—"

"We're not on first name terms anymore, Potter, I thought you of all people would know that!"

"…Malfoy… Hermione and Ron—"

"Oh! So now you blame it on mudblood and your fellow beggar?! They brainwashed you, or seduced you?"

"MALFOY! … 'He's just playing with you.' They told me that. I didn't believe it in the least. But as the days progressed, I noticed…I realized that you really are playing tricks on me. You don't even look like you give a damn about me! Unless you say you love me right now, Malfoy… We're left in being enemies."

end flashback

Ah yes, I had never said I love you, have I? Never spoke intimately, never shown much affection?

As I told you before, this is my first taste of love, Potter. This is my first taste of love.

It hurt me as much as it did you when I just **left you there**, in the dressing room, without saying anything more. Why didn't I tell you I loved you right then and there? We could have been happy by now, that's right.

But I still couldn't admit it. Even at the end of the term. When we left for our respective homes, we just glared.

No insults, no words. No love.

Ouch, Potter. That hurt, but I know it was partly my fault. I am such a masochistic sadist, aren't I?

My room is bleak, I look around, and my eyes land on the letter.

The letter your snowy owl had dropped. I was excited, to tell you the truth, Potter. I was overjoyed in seeing something you owned. Even If I was trying to forget you and your touch.

But then it said something which hurt me, like what you do all the time.

I crawled helplessly over to the letter, reading the smudgy thing for the 20th time; hardly readable.

_Dear Malfoy_

Are you surprised to read a message from me? I can just see the disgust in your face right now. I have come to tell you, of what I have realized, Draco. What exactly?

That even if you're just playing with me, even if you're just using me—…

I love you, nothing can change that. I love the way you manipulate me, isn't it ironic? I was finally able to sort all these out, took me half the year to. I love you.

_But it's too late. Why? I'm engaged to Ginny now. _

_Yes, that younger red-haired girl who always tags along. I'm not in love with her, but I'm not using her as well. I am just doing this to repay the Weasley's, to make their youngest and only daughter happy. It's the one thing I could do to make her and her family happy. Maybe if she's happy I can pretend I am too. But I don't love her._

_I love you._

_This is not a letter to tell you that I'm running back to you, it's a letter telling you of how I truly feel._

_You have probably thrown this in the fireplace, So why do I even bother? _

_But—If you're still reading this, please don't reply. It won't change fate. I'll be married by tomorrow. What am I saying? You won't care anyway. _

_Forever Yours,_

_Harry Potter_

How can you say you love me, Potter? Or better yet, how could you say I don't love you? Don't you know I've been chasing you around like a love-sick puppy all year round? Is it just because I never told you I loved you, is that why you left me?

Left me with these new emotions, like a newly-born child in a world alien of this knowledge?

How can you marry someone you don't love, Potter? It is purely against what you have told me countless times before. I don't understand you and your stupid noble ways.

And I hate you for it.

I grip the letter tighter, my eyes squinted in pain. And I murmur, at last, in a breath.

For the first time.

"I love you, Harry Potter."

Even if the words do not reach him.


	2. A Few Breaths Left

A Few Breaths Left 

Rated R for suicidal themes… away if it isn't your cup of tea. Hello everyone! I decided to put four more chapters after **Even if The Words Do Not Reach Him **cause I like stories like these. Disclaimers are always present.

---

The soothing smell of blood. A blade glinting in the dark. I lay almost lifeless, slumping on the cold wall behind me, the knife in my pale hand.

This is all your fault, Potter.

It always is. And yet I can't stop thinking of you. Hoping for you. Dreaming of you. Wanting you…

I had you, once…

Flashback

"Draco, you know I love you so much…"

A tender touch on the cheek, a soft reply,

"I know, Potter."

End Flashback

And now the redhead grabbed you. You don't even fight back for me. How could you say you love me!?

You liar.

Everyday I'd think of you, how your eyes glow in its unnatural innocence, how that tousled hair of yours manage to endear everyone more. The way your body language shows more than your speech. The strong force of life and joy and purity and strength and vigilance and valor and… and… and the EVERYTHING that you radiate…Everything that I'm not.

And that smile… God, that smile…

Yes, I worship you. I will never admit this to anyone, but for once in my life, I am confessing this to myself. I worship you. Fuck Malfoy pride.

…

No wait, let me correct that. I'd never worship you, Harry Potter. That is low for my prestige. This feeling is much more… inferior. I declare this, to no soul but myself…

I love you. And I hate myself for doing so, but I can't help it. My heart throbs for you.

How do you think I felt when you shunned away from me?

That's right. It HURT.

And now this pain is unbearable. To the point that I have to scar my skin just to equal the pain. I have to maul myself, batter myself, to feel the stings of the physical realm… I'd rather feel that than my heart's agony.

Oh, anything would be better than this hungry loneliness, this utter sadness, this EMPTINESS that wields beneath the bowels of my soul. I need to feel the blade tearing my skin so I may distract myself as my heart shreds itself apart. That does me well.

I slide another deep wound across my arm, blood marks that trail almost immediately. I laugh an empty, cold, mirthless laugh as the knife mars my marble flesh. But the truth is, I hardly notice.

Because I only think of you.

The irony of that realization sends me sniggering as the blood finds it's path down my arm.

And I only think of you.

My hand jerks in action, as I swiftly draw a harsher gash across my already bleeding scar.

And I can think of a million memories of you.

"_Malfoy, just give me a chance." _

And these memories are of a past that once promised a future.

"_We'll be together forever, you know…"_

Why do you haunt me? Stop it! Stop! Stop bursting into my head with these heart-wrenching memories! Leave me be, you have shattered me already!

I can't stand my pathetic lonesomeness without you, but leave! Go away! And why is it that when you leave me, you are still on my mind!?

I'm going crazy.

Another slash on my arm, blood splatters unto my clothes at the violence of it.

"_Malfoy, I love you."_

No, you don't.

I love you.

I swallowed, and choked almost soundlessly as there is a squeezing ache on my chest. My forehead has a soreness on it too, and I eye wearily the large pool of blood that dampened my clothes.

And finally, I withdrew. I gave in. Closed my eyes, shut it tightly, memories of you still vibrant in this mind of pending insanity. And then…

Tears.

Again.

Tears impaled this ruthless mortal, this hopeless wizard, this trampled soul, this bitter man. Tears impaled a Malfoy.

Tears impaled me.

Because of you. You, Harry Potter, have crushed me down, torn down this Malfoy, and I am now below nothingness. A Malfoy is crying.

Congratulations.

This strange wetness trails down softly, slowly, almost as if meekly scared, down to my lips. These pale lips. And they seep through so that I could taste them.

To me, with this stale taste of defeat on my lips, the tears did not taste salty. They were cold and…

Bitter.

I laugh again. That's not the only thing bitter.

---(Harry Potter)

Draco Malfoy. You're still on my mind. You always are. How can you not be?

As I look into the flames of the soothing fireplace, twiddling my wand, I too glance back at the past. The past that is so far away, and still enables me to hurt, to ache.

Flashback

I am tired of running.

"Malfoy, would you just wait?!"

A derisive laugh from him. "Finally pleading, Potter?"

"how can you be such an obnoxious prick?!"

His cold grey eyes lock on to me, "Stopping me just to throw low insults?"

He turns, "Don't waste my time."

I watch him saunter away. I catch myself stuttering, "Wait!"

He stops. I take in a deep breath, "Malfoy… I…I love you."

End Flashback

I couldn't believe it when you did not shout at me, when you did not mock me. When you did not taunt. You even acted as if you were a lost, anxious little child, as if you were confused.

Then we took each other into our arms, embrace long and sweet. I was glad. You had feelings for me too, I was so content! I felt so safe in your arms, knowing that you loved me! But I was wrong.

The little smile that was creeping up my face just now, faded.

I was wrong. Oh so wrong. You are a bastard, Malfoy. You had little me in your hand, ready to be wounded and entwined beneath your fingers in your cruel play. You had thought it enjoyable to watch me value you thinking you cared for me, and I was too naïve to even think about your evil plots.

I was in love. I was blinded in passion, not able to notice you manipulating me.

And you know what the cruelest thing is?

That up to now, I still love you.

This world is such a pitiless place, such a vicious life filled with twists and complications. Of all people to love, it had to be you, hadn't it? The one who pleasures in seeing me suffer?

I thought you loved me. I even shelved the concerns of my best friends aside because I trusted you. Because I loved you that much.

Flashback

"Harry, don't you think that—"

"For the tenth time, I know he loves me!"

"Yes Harry, but—"

"WHY do you want to destroy this all, Hermione!?"

"Harry, hasn't—"

"Ron, stop it! I know he loves me!"

Ron grabbed both my shoulders and looked at me sternly, "Did he ever say that?"

End Flashback

I felt a tiny crack at my confidence then. I was always sure that you loved me as much as I did you, by the way you caressed me and by the way you stayed with me.

And how it hurt when I noticed, through that crack, that you didn't. Never have I caught you so intimate in words, never have I seen your handsome grey eyes soft when they meet mine… no, you were always tense, always proud, never hearing what I had to say, what I felt.

At first I ignored it. I didn't care, as long as I had you, as long as I could talk to you, touch you, love you, it would be enough.

But it wasn't. I felt an empty gap inside my soul, a coldness that met me harder and harder when I realized that…

I never heard you say that you love me.

My body suddenly bolts upright, and I stand, throwing my wand down to the floor. My tears run freely as the ache in my heart starts swelling.

I wanted to know if all this was just my fantasy. So I prodded you. I told you that we shouldn't be together unless you said that you loved me.

I wanted to hear you say it. It made a great difference if you did. Only once, I only needed to hear it once, and I hoped and I hoped and hoped till my mind almost burst out. I had faith in you, I thought… I knew that you would say it. That you would abandon your pride for less than a minute, and tell me that you cared for me. That you weren't playing, that you would stay with me forever. I thought you would admit that you loved me.

And it crushed me when you didn't.

Why didn't you say you loved me? Is it because it was too hard for you to do? Is it because you were afraid to, or you were too proud to?

Or is it because it wasn't true?

Then you left me. It confirmed this horrendous truth. When you left the locker room, without saying anything, it occurred to me what I had been fearing most.

—You didn't love me.—

A shiver runs down my spine.

I look around the Weasley's living room. The fire is merry and everything seems peaceful, but to me it is empty. Lifeless, as I was when I had been in school, avoiding you, Draco Malfoy, from far away, knowing that my love could never be requited.

It killed me, then. I was devastated, the only one I loved betrayed me! Played with me! Probably laughed heartily at my pathetic-ness when I was crying, contemptuous when I was huddled in the corner of the Gryffindor room, sobbing at my utter misery.

Even when I left school. When I finally graduated from Hogwarts. I was silently aching for you, but you had been cut off from me then, and every day, every night I would think of you, of what you would be doing at that certain time, how you seemed to have captured my heart. I don't know how, and I don't know why but I couldn't forget you.

I still love you.

Then, one day, little Ginny came up to me. She said she loved me. I had my suspicion before, but it was only now did I feel a warmth about it. She had not filled this hole in my soul, but she had offered me kindness and a trust that reminded me of how I trusted you.

And I did not want to be like you. I did not want to be heartless, and play along. I did not want to take what she'd given, and dispose of her when she found out I didn't love her.

I answered her. I said I loved her too. She was so blissful, and I guess I was glad for her. I had wanted her to feel the happiness that I had hoped for when I was with you. But unlike you, I would not leave her!

And isn't it a pity, that every night, I would not think of her.

I would think of you.

And so I wrote you that letter. Just recently, a few days ago. You had not answered. Hedwig had come home, but with no reply. I was partly sure that you had thrown it into the fire, not caring that I am trapped marrying one that was so much like my sister, and loving someone else.

Draco, you really must hate me.

I did not even know why I had wanted to send you that message in the first place. Maybe, in a way, I wanted you to save me from this trap I was leading myself into. I had faith again that you would help me and tell me to stop trying to marry Ginny to hide from the pain. That even if I told you not to save me, you would hear the soundless screams from the letter, begging you to help.

But you didn't. Once again my faith has been in vain.

I take in a deep breath, and wipe away the tears that stain my cheeks. I should not angst around for you. I should forget everything about you, about your wonderful pale eyes that seemed to know things others don't, your blonde hair shimmering in the sunlight, and that pale face of yours that makes you look so attractively mysterious. The way your poise would marvel me, the way you can shelve things aside so easily.

My heart contracts. I feel more tears well up in my eyes, but I gulp, trying hard not to let them fall. How could you not cry, Malfoy? I have never seen you cry when we were on bad terms.

—Another proof. You do not care.

And that truth pains me so much.

Suddenly, I feel something different other than this weeping heart. Like a spear through my stomach, and a brightness in my eyes for just a second. And this certain instinct came over me. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but all I knew was that something was awfully wrong.

Draco Malfoy. Are you in trouble!?

---(Draco Malfoy)

I was wading in the pools of blood. I sighed, almost contently. This excruciating pain was now enough to match the aching wound that's in my heart.

Harry Potter. The one I love. What would you do if you found out I've done this to myself? You're too unpredictable for me to guess.

I am now too weak to hold the knife properly. My hands are limp, and I cannot control it too much. My whole body is laid out, for all to see, this hopeless little Malfoy who was not too wary about love.

I was not too wary about you, Harry Potter.

I feel myself slowly slipping away. I cannot laugh, and so I grin at this morbid end. I can feel myself slowly being wiped away from this earth. Ebbing away, dusting into nothing. Everything was getting blurry. Was this the end? Have I finally overdone myself that I have lost too much of this red liquid? Am I to die? And see the pits of hell that promises me more pain?

I need that. More pain. More physical, fiery pain. But I am starting to think that nothing can get you off my mind.

I am losing my breath now. It grows shallow.

And then I see a form. Running towards me, running towards this almost lifeless lump of garbage on the floor. I squint and try to recognize this being as it leans down near me.

"Draco! God— Why?!"

I distinguish that voice anywhere. Potter. Even in death do you plague me!?

I suddenly felt anger surging through.

What is it, Potter? Have you apparated because you had the feeling I'd kill myself? Come to see me die? What do you want from me, now that you have taken so much of my time and my sanity?! Would you like to see me die, Potter? See me rot in hell for the stupid Malfoy I am!?

I feel something wet and ice-like drop down and splash on my cheek. It is your tears. I wonder why you cry, don't you know that it's too late? I concentrate on trying to make out your face, as I am in your arms, aching and bloody. I see the two, deep green gems you behold. And, uncontrollably, I gasp, tears stung my own eyes, flowed down like a river instantly, as if this sadness has overflowed and exploded. And I sob your name,

"Potter..."

I want to scream at you. This is what you have done! Look at me, look at this mess! It is all your fault, all your fault! It is because of you, that I lay down here, as death dawns upon me! ALL YOUR FAULT!

But I don't. I see the remorse in your eyes, and it tells me that you know. My anger changed into another feeling that I cannot describe. Did I make you cry? Did you come here because of selfish, old me? Are you stubbornly trying to wipe the blood away from my face because I can't do it?

And then comes a blast. An urge, almost an impulse. I want to wipe your tears away. I want to tell you that it's okay, that all is well, that I would live, and love you, and kiss you, and hold you, never leave...

Though that would be lying. I had cut too deeply that I knew I wouldn't make it.

But I had to make you feel better. It is a demand I place upon myself.

And so I reach out, to your beautiful face, wiping the tears with a flaccid hand and a struggle. I winced as I put so much effort on this action, and it was going to drop down, as I am exhausted, when I felt warm hands upon it. Your hands clutching mine. You touch me with such warmth that it seems to flood through my whole body.

And I knew what I should say. What I want to say. With a few breaths left, I stared his face carefully, looking deep and memorizing every little detail. And I whispered, softly,

"I love you…"

And then my eyes closed shut.


	3. Walking into the Laid Out Trap

Walking into the Laid Out Trap 

It's very difficult to write the continuations of stories that have been shelved aside for so long. I am guilty of forgetting these old novellas, but not to worry. I'll now I'll try to recollect myself, and not leave pieces of me left behind, hanging. If you read this piece of work, thank you. WARNING, swearwords and slash. Disclaimers, if you please.

---

The darkness drones on.

Somewhere within the blankets of space, I relinquished a thought.

I was to die.

I am forgotten…

Thoughts like these have never haunted me, but this time they echoed in such a way that I could never assume them untrue— they were as sure as the sun dawning out of the horizon and the darkness that overlay the night.

I am to die.

I am forgotten.

Where am I, really? I cannot remember anything but the blood on my shirt, and I wonder now where the blood had gone. Why am I so… sad?

_Draco! God— Why?!_

Potter's voice.

I remember Potter.

God how I remember him.

"_Draco! Draco tell me you're alright?"_

But I'm not, Potter. I only see shadows, light and dark, shifting like muddy water. I'm not alright, Potter. I can't tell you anything Potter.

Potter, save me.

Please Potter, come back…

I cannot hear him anymore. The rustling sound is gone. The cold gripped my fingers, they are as numb as the very core of my body. Only one thought graces through me again and again, and for a time I forget the cold.

I think of Potter and his bright green eyes.

I think of him and the pain goes away.

Potter…

No.

They've begun flashing.

Memories again.

Please don't make me hurt. I can't stand it anymore.

I'm dying.

'_Malfoy, do you love me?'_

Tender hands and warm kisses.

'_Draco tell me you love me...'_

Tears and pain and grief and loneliness.

Empty.

He left me.

'…Unless you tell me…' 

'…_Do you love me?'_

'…_Tell me you love me…'_

It's all your voice. They're slicing me open.

'_love me'_

'_love me'_

'_love me'_

The words won't stop pouring. They are shouting and yelling and screaming my name, pounding into my thoughts, racking my brain; your voice, dear God how can your voice be in my head?!

'—_I'm engaged to Ginny now—'_

'—_don't try to stop me—'_

'—_marrying her, marrying her…'_

'_Truly yours—'_

'—_married by tomorrow…'_

'—_Malfoy, I love you—'_

'—_Malfoy— wait—!'_

You're doing this on purpose, Potter.

'—_Malfoy, I can't be with you—'_

'_I love you, Harry Potter…'_

"STOP!" I cried, bolting up from the warm, white bed. Immediately I felt a fear— there was whiteness everywhere, shimmering into my eyes— blinding me— hands are holding me down— what's going on— so cold—

Whispers and yells, stomps and cries, something wet runs down my cheeks and I am afraid of it— it will kill me— these hands are pinning me down— the fingers are going to suck me dry—

"Malfoy, calm down… Calm down…"

That voice froze all the others. That voice froze me.

I know that voice.

And my eyes focused at once, I felt my heart and I felt my breath, and I felt the pang of pain that twisted inside me.

A familiar sight.

It's him.

I gape for a long moment. Both cold and warm rush through my body.

He almost killed me.

"Malfoy, it's me, it's Harry, it's alright, don't move much, or it'll—"

"NO!" I cried out, thrashing. My fist hit him squarely on the jaw, he yelled and tumbled on the ground. Voices flurried around us, but his green stare kept us focused just on each other. His look of fear and pain, the color draining out of his face fueled my anger.

"You're a stupid prat, you know!" I began to say, "You nag and nag and nag! That's all you ever do! You want more fucking words for your fucking boy-who-lived ego! You wanted me to milk it all out, didn't you!"

I began mimicking him, in a lighter, more annoying tone, " 'love me, Draco! Tell me you love me! Tell me or else I'll LEAVE YOU!' "

I hardly noticed that my collar was already wet with tears. That my wrists were bleeding again, as I lashed out, pulling the cords out of my frame. I did not care. I have to hurt him.

"YOU LEFT ME, POTTER, BECAUSE I'M AN IDIOT!" Some healers were pulling me down, I strained to move towards him, "YOU WANT ME TO SAY IT AGAIN?! I'M AN IDIOT, A MORON! A FOOL! A COWARD!"

Now I began gulping in air, I began to rack my lungs, and I gave an ugly face as I cried out, "You left me because I couldn't fucking say the words!"

Potter was just staring at me. Did he even understand anything I said?

"But you know what, Potter? I don't need someone who has to feed on his giant ego! I don't need someone to force me to say 'I love you,' when I've done so much already TO PROVE MY IT!"

"—Malfoy—" began Harry, as he hobbled to his feet, the other healers helping him up, but I cut him off.

"—FUCK YOU!" I said, each word like a sting to the sapling, like a burden lighter for me, "FUCK YOU, HARRY POTTER! GET MARRIED! I DON'T CARE ANYMORE! YOU KNOW WHAT? I DON'T NEED A STUPID EGOISTIC FUCK LIKE YOU! MARRY HER! I DON'T CARE!"

And I cried some more when he fled the room.

---

You gave me a note the next day. You laid it on my pillow as I slept. The moment I read the words, I gnashed my teeth.

_I'm sorry, Malfoy, _it said, _I've been too stupid to see. Please forgive me. Please, I love you._

Love me? I thought savagely.

So THAT'S why your marrying Ginny! So that's why, every goddamn day, I had to sit alone wondering why the hell you left? So that's why I've been moping down the road to hell, hating myself, asking myself – why? Why? WHY?!

—Because you fucking _love _me?!

I've been dying everyday, Potter. Actually, I wish I already had, and I had almost succeeded but you just had to come along and ruin it all.

Don't you know how much my heart aches? Can't you understand, or even fucking sympathize? Don't you know how much I thought of you, as you skipped away, whisking that Weasley into your arms? It's the first time I've ever loved, Potter, and it's my first taste of betrayal too…

Why did you have to come along and make me fall in love with you?! Why do you have to be such a bitch?! You're a loser, Potter, just like I am! A moron! A fool! I regret everything I did for you! I don't need you! I don't want you back, I hate you!

I'm lying to myself again.

I turned my head to the pillow, hoping faintly that it would suffocate me. The gasps from my sobbing, however, kept me alive.

For days and days and days unending.

_You're getting married. _

---(Harry Potter)

I can't back out.

I want to back out.

No. It's over between us. He said so himself. He doesn't care.

He loved me.

I'm such an ass.

But I only wanted to be sure. I'm so afraid of being tricked. I've been tricked so many times before… I've been a goddamn fool countless times. I hate myself for it, but I cannot escape what I am…

Everyone ends up lying to me, these past few years. Everyone's been tricking me, so that at least they would have a good laugh at the Boy-Who-Lived. Jesus, can you blame me for being afraid?

I couldn't be as innocent as you, Malfoy. I couldn't trust your actions alone.

I'm sorry.

Look at me now, Draco, I love you and yet I'm marrying Ginny. My actions are a lie.

But you didn't lie, did you, Malfoy?

It was I who lied.

And now I've fallen into the laid out trap.

_I'm getting married. _

God, no.


End file.
